


tenerife sea

by leapylion3



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Cunnilingus, F/M, Gift Fic, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Uncle/Niece Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2439359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leapylion3/pseuds/leapylion3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viserys dropped his papers on the ground, and no one even batted an eye when he crawled underneath the table to retrieve them. </p><p>Rhaenys was about to go and help him, but a warm hand curled around her ankle stopped her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tenerife sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crossingwinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/gifts).



> Written for crossingwinter/ashaqueenasha for the Flea Bottom Fic Exchange over on tumblr.

Aegon and Rhaenys had been forced to accompany their father to one of his _dreadfully boring_ small council meetings. Aegon never minded so much, especially since he would have to sit in on them for years to come once he was king. Rhaenys, on the other hand, hated the meetings with a burning passion. She knew it would do her well for the future, when she would be married off and rule a castle with her lord husband. (Which she was trying to delay for as long as possible, much to her father’s dismay.)

“I don’t see why Father’s making us go to the stupid meeting,” she grumbled, pulling a hairbrush through her knotted black hair. Her reflection glared back at her, cheeks tinted a slight red and lips pursed into a thin line. “It’s not as if anything important is going on.”

“I heard someone is back in the capital,” Aegon said cryptically, plucking a grape out of the fruit bowl on Rhaenys’ nightstand, “that Father wants us to see.”

Rhaenys’ ears pricked up at that. She continued to act disinterested and gave a noncommittal shrug, but she was buzzing on the inside. The lack of information revealed barely anything, but Rhaenys knew _exactly_ who her brother was talking about. Suddenly, the prospect of the small council meeting did not seem as boring as before.

And, sure enough, Uncle Viserys was sitting on the edge of the council table, shaking hands with the other members as they welcomed him back and flashing that cocky grin of his, the one that never failed to make Rhaenys’ heart skip a beat in her chest. He’d been gone for three moons, taking the time to travel through Dorne and the Free Cities. Rhaenys had begged him to take her with him, but both of them knew that Elia and Rhaegar would never allow it.

“Another time,” he’d promised her, after they were curled up in bed together, sweaty and sated and breathing heavily.

“Aegon,” Viserys said, bringing his nephew in for a tight hug. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you, Uncle.”

Viserys had seemed to grow taller in the time that he was away, though Rhaenys was certain that he’d stopped growing years ago; he was approaching the age of three-and-twenty, and was still an unmarried man, besides. (Which she was grateful for, of course, but her father was less than pleased about the matter.) His hair was more silvery than ever, his skin a lovely bronze, after months in the sun. She’d almost forgotten how _handsome_ he was, and the realization washed over her like a wave; it took all her strength to keep a straight face and smile politely, when all she wanted to do was run into his arms and kiss him breathless.

“Rhaenys.” Viserys finally approached her, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “You’ve grown even more beautiful.” His eyes were darker than usual, and his voice took on a slightly husky undertone that only Rhaenys was able to notice.

“Why, Uncle, you’re making me blush,” she replied airily. They stared at each other for a few moments in silence, studying one another, before Rhaegar finally called the meeting to order. Rhaenys took her seat in between Aegon and Lord Jon Connington, the Hand of the King. Rhaenys liked Connington well enough, but she never appreciated the slight venom in his speech whenever he spoke to her mother.

The meeting was just as boring as she predicted, and soon began to tune the men’s voices out until they became nothing more than distant droning. Aegon was contributing to the conversation and even taking notes, while Rhaenys subtly stole peeks at Viserys, watching how he would always frown ever so slightly when he disagreed with a point brought up. (Which, she discovered, was quite often.)

Viserys slowly drew himself out of the conversation, until he was nothing more than an observer, akin to Rhaenys. The other council members didn’t seem to notice, and though Rhaegar sent him a few stern glances every so often, he did not say anything. Viserys dropped his papers on the ground, and no one even batted an eye when he crawled underneath the table to retrieve them.

Rhaenys was about to go and help him, but a warm hand curled around her ankle stopped her. She held back a gasp, her nails digging into the wooden arms of the chair. The warm fingers pushed her skirts up at a leisurely pace, the calloused palms feeling wondrous in contrast to her smooth skin. She was already impatient, could already feel the insistent throbbing between her thighs. Careful not to scratch the floor, she moved the heavy chair closer to the table, until the tablecloth was covering her lap.

Viserys’ lips lightly travelled up her inner thigh, and when he got to the edge of her smallclothes, he repeated the same motion on the other side. Her legs spread wider on their own accord and she brought a hand down to her uncle’s head, trying to push him closer to where she needed him. She could _see_ him smirking, and he ducked away, kissing his way down her calves to her ankles.

“Rhaenys?” Aegon whispered, leaning closer to her. “Are you all right? You look like you have a fever.”

“I’m fine,” she hushed back, too quickly to seem truthful. Aegon eyed her dubiously before turning his attention back to the meeting.

Rhaenys inhaled sharply when Viserys’ mouth finally touched her cunt, his fingers pushing her smallclothes aside. His lips encircled her swollen clit, alternating between sucks and flicks of his tongue, just the way he knew she liked it. She tugged harder on his hair, and this time, he obliged, his nails digging into her thighs as he lapped at her as if it were his last day on earth.

He moved his attention to her cunt, licking wide stripes up her sex from back to front. She was biting her tongue bloody to stop from making any noise; all she could do was squirm in her seat in an attempt to get as much friction as possible. There were many a night when he would kneel between her legs and lick at her for _hours_ , until she was screaming his name and grinding up on his face. But now, she had to play the perfect little lady, be the quiet, attentive princess, as her uncle feasted upon her cunt underneath the same table that her father and brother were sitting at.

She peaked suddenly, jerking her knee up so quick that it slammed into the table. She blushed fiercely as all eyes in the room turned to her.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Lord Connington asked.

“I’m fine. Aegon just kicked me and I wasn’t expecting it.” Her brother glared at her, but he did not say otherwise.

Viserys licked her clean, pushing his tongue up inside her until her head was spinning. He made sure that not a drop went to waste, and, moments later, he returned to his seat, his papers in a neat pile in front of him, as if nothing had ever happened. He must have had release himself, Rhaenys figured, since his eyes were blown wide and he was wiping his hands on his breeches.

Rhaenys leaned back in her seat, and found herself smiling softly. With Viserys back in the city, council meetings would be _much_ less boring.      


End file.
